The Annual Performance Review Season
It's performance review season. Today I drafted about 2000 characters of my self-assessment and sent a meeting request email to the director.
Last year's performance period ran from April to December, and during nearly half of that time—from June to September—I was in a less-than-optimal state due to a bicycle accident and a broken foot. So I felt uncertain about this year's review even before it began. With my condition being at its worst for roughly half the period, I wondered how much performance could realistically be expected. The evaluation grades haven't been released yet, and I haven't had the evaluation meeting with the director, but while writing my self-evaluation today, I found myself thinking: How much better could I possibly have done even if I'd been working at peak condition? (hahaha) A short period, worst-case conditions, the whirlwind of alternating remote work and office days, all while the company stock price fluctuated, the CEO sent an organizational restructuring email to all employees, and I grappled with career worries—amidst this chaotic time, I still got the necessary work done and even challenged myself with things I wanted to try. My hard work showed. I really went through a lot.
Every year after writing my performance review and waiting for my rating, there's one thing I look forward to: the comments from my superior. Contrary to his seemingly cold exterior, our department head writes his comments with warmth and thoughtfulness. The moment I first received the comments, I always teared up and couldn't read them properly. Somehow, I felt a little embarrassed that he understood my struggles and hardships so well, and I couldn't bring myself to take them out and read them again. But today, for some reason, I felt like taking them out and reading them again. Rereading the comments, I realized that becoming this talkative, constantly challenging fourth-year planner at the company was possible precisely because of a manager like him. With the resolve to revisit them more often starting this year… I intend to look back at them alongside my own comments.
2021 Superior Evaluation & 2022 Comments I Leave
Minseok has consistently been placed in roles demanding more than he could reasonably handle since joining the company, yet he continues to excel remarkably.
- Reading this line always makes me tear up so much I can't properly read it. A position demanding more than one can reasonably handle, someone who still manages to excel at it, and describing that as remarkable. I'm always grateful that you see a better version of me than I see myself, and it makes me want to keep striving to live up to that.
You're always studying new things, sharing information that helps the squad, and trying various approaches. Your willingness to step up and help with anything that benefits the squad or organization, without limiting yourself to your job scope, is an incredibly valuable contribution.
- Sometimes I wonder if I'm being too pushy, or if my squad members might feel burdened by my efforts. Hearing comments like these gives me renewed energy. And whenever I start to get a little too comfortable, it becomes a chance to get motivated again.
You possess the strengths of positive thinking and relentless effort, so there's no need to feel impatient with yourself. I know that the experiences that may be difficult now are becoming one by one precious experiences you are building for yourself, and through them, you are continuing to grow. Therefore, I hope you keep trying various things, even if you fail.
- The power of conveying the message "There's no need to be impatient, you are continuing to grow" not just through looks or circumstances, but in clear language, is much greater than you might think. Thanks to that, perhaps you were able to become someone who achieves results even amidst hardship. The road ahead is still long and deep.
I pulled it out again because I wanted to revisit the post that former Ridibooks CTO Nam Hyun-woo left upon leaving Ridibooks, which I happened to see this morning.
Source: https://namenu.github.io/last-msync.html
> farewell @ m-sync 20200116 > Most companies, including ours, shout about pursuing the essence. Truthfully, no company says we shouldn't pursue the essence. But it doesn't work well. Why? Because we don't truly understand how close a task is to the essence until we start it ourselves and get our hands dirty to some extent. Realizing how close a task is to the essence took anywhere from six months to three or even five years. Looking back, we'll surely recall many things we're diligently doing now as routine that, in hindsight, were far removed from the essence. But what can we do? We have to keep working somehow. The problem is that the average tenure of a typical IT company employee is shorter than the time it takes to determine whether a task is truly essential. Consequently, a phenomenon emerges: people rarely get to experience the entire cycle of starting a project, seeing it grow, and then cleaning up the mess. Some jump from company to company, only initiating new projects, while others are hastily hired by companies trying to clean up messes, doing only what they're told before burning out and leaving. It sounds harsh to put it this way, but… in short, the person who makes the mess and the person who cleans it up are different. Of course, gaining deep experience in each role is important, but I also believe it's crucial to have opportunities to connect these experiences and reflect on them. There are definitely things you can only learn by doing both – not just setting problems or solving them, but also grading them. If there's an effective way that doesn't stray from the essence, isn't it precisely through this kind of experience that you realize how to avoid mistakes?
This piece felt somehow similar in context to the comment the Director left for me, yet it also provided me with another clue. Things you can only truly understand by both creating and solving problems, and then grading them. I'm currently in the process of diligently solving problems. Someday, I'll create problems myself, and then solve those problems again. I'll pick up a red pen to circle answers or draw lines through mistakes. And someday, I'll understand the answers I once crossed out, and change those lines into stars. And the day will come when I neatly fold that exam paper, tuck it into my bag, and set off down a different path. When that day arrives, I'm sure I'll remember this very post.